


The Epic Odyssey in Search of a Mug

by EmeraldSage



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Chaos, In search of a Mug, Merry Hell in the Office, Multi, Office AU, Rated M for slightly mature mentions, Utter Chaos, pretty tame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldSage/pseuds/EmeraldSage
Summary: An office worker’s favorite decorative coffee mug has gone missing, and the obsessive search for the mug throughout the workplace turns into a dire and ridiculous odyssey.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, here's my best shot at this. Consider it a study break.

This’ll be a short one until I can come back to it, but I hope it’s okay; Hetalia based fanfic :)

 

            Francis glanced over at his co-worker’s desk, unbearably curious despite himself. For the last half-hour, the normally prudish, work-a-holic, rule-obsessed Briton had been making a quiet racket over by his desk. He’d been tossing papers - including an important file that Francis knew concerned the top secret deal that the executive was putting into action - shoving paper weights, and pitching merry hell all over his work station. Francis was just about curious enough to risk his delicious little co-worker’s hair-trigger fury to find out what had put him in such a mood.

            Unfortunately, the Boss’s technology head had stopped and asked first.

            “Ah, Arthur-san,” Kiku asked hesitantly, “is there something wrong?”

            Bless his heart, Kiku was the only person Arthur couldn’t get furious with. Perhaps it was the younger man’s calm and serene nature, or his no-nonsense attitude paired with a hesitancy to comment on anything that wasn’t his business that endeared the younger to the very private Briton.

            Arthur’s fit seemed to calm, and he blinked confusedly at Kiku.

            “Ah,” he said eloquently, “I’ve, ah, misplaced my favorite coffee mug. I just can’t seem to find it anywhere...”

            “ _Mon_ _cher_ ,” Francis interrupted, drawing a scowl from the Englishman and a start from Kiku, “you don’t drink coffee. Why is a mug so important? I’ve never seen you use one.”

            Arthur flushed, even as he glared, and for a second, it looked like he would just spit out another It’s none of your business, frog, when instead “My youngest brother gave it to me,” he said huffily, reluctantly, “before our relationship became...strained.”

“We can help you look, Arthur-san,” Kiku piped up, and Arthur flushed even more as Francis’s grin grew wider, “I’m sure it won’t take too long if all of us look.” Francis voiced his agreement with a hum, and Arthur reluctantly conceded.

            “Alright, well...it’s this gaudy big thing, in red white and blue, like an American Flag...”

            “Aren’t you English, _cheri_?”

            “SHOVE IT, _frog_!”

* * *

 

            He was never going to look for anything for Arthur ever again, he swore. Not even getting the Englishman in bed would be worth the agony they’d just went through. (Well...maybe he wouldn’t go that far...)

            They’d started the search by going through all the desks in the area to see if anyone had snatched it by mistake. It’d been a good idea, only, they’d triggered the hair-trigger traps Basch Zwingli had laid into his desk, and had to scatter as dagger-sharp paper clips, maliciously glinting staples, and a frying pan that looked suspiciously like Elizabeta’s flew at them, aimed with vicious precision. Kiku had been clipped with a paper clip on one side, and they’d had to take time to bandage the somehow heavily bleeding wound, and thank the lord above that neither of them had been hit by the vicious office supplies.

            Next, they’d tried the communal lounge area with the kitchen, thinking that Arthur might’ve brought it with him to make some tea - despite Arthur’s claims that he’d never used the infernal thing in his life - and it ended up with Arthur moving far too close to the stove for their sanity, and a vicious attempt to vanish the noxious smell that came from Arthur beginning to cook anything at all. Poor _Mathieu_ had been caught in the path of the noxious cooking’s fumes, and passed out where he’d walked into the lounge before they could open a window. Francis dialed for an ambulance for his petit frère and then hazard control for the fumes. Then, they fled. Three more people passed out as they did so, sprawling in a foreboding block in front of the lounge.

            At least no one else will make the mistake of going inside.

            Then they decided to check the Lost and Found - where they probably should’ve checked first. Kiku managed to find a misplaced first edition of a particularly rare video game that had only produced a limited number of copies and stashed it away secretly when he realized there was no name on it. Francis, of course, saw him. But nothing bad had happened until Arthur tripped on something unidentifiable on the floor - unidentifiable to him at least, Francis knew what it was, but he’d rather not induce another Arthur-headache at the moment, so he refrained from telling the other about the questionable content some of the employees brought to work - and toppled into a literal mountain of lost and found stuff.

            They’d had to enlist three other offices filled with people to help dig him out.

At that point, they’d acquired a decent following of people who’d caught the tail edges of some of their disasters and wanted to know what they were going to trigger next. So, they had a group of followers. Who were following them. At a reasonable distance.

            They decided to move it up to HR, because there was a chance the HR office - who knew _everything_ \- would know _something_ about the missing mug. Instead, they’d walked in on Gilbert, Elizabeta and Rodereich having a threesome. Francis and Arthur, with ease of long practice, had ducked the incoming frying pan. Poor Kiku hadn’t.

            One of their followers had offered to take Kiku to the on-site infirmary - because the office was screwed up enough that the bosses had decided they’d need one; it would save a fortune on hospital costs (and it did) - and that’s when Kiku and his calming presence left their story.

            So, Francis and Arthur - and an as far as he knew unidentifiable number of their colleagues - were left by themselves to look for the missing mug.

            Francis had dropped one comment - snarky, perverted, with a subtle insult involved - and it had turned into an all out brawl between him and Arthur within seconds. The unidentifiable number of their coworkers split to try and haul them apart, and somehow -despite their large numbers - utterly failed. Ten people had to be sent to the infirmary, and poor Mathieu, who’d woken up from his induced coma like trance and followed the trail of chaos, curiously, had to be sent to the hospital again. For the mental trauma involved.

            He wasn’t the only one.

            Finally - _finally_ \- Yao, the office supervisor, got a hold of Ivan, the building’s head of security, in order to break them apart. Which, with one look at the imposing man’s terrifying smile and the pipe he was tapping expectantly on his palm, they did so gladly.

So, one hair raising catastrophe after another, and they were standing in front of the entire unidentified number of colleagues, Yao, and Ivan, in the main lobby, and they _still_ had no idea where the goddamned mug was...

            “Whoa, what’s going on here?” a young voice interceded in his thoughts, and as one, everyone turned to look at the startled young blond by the revolving entrance doors.

            “Ah, dorogoy, you were supposed to wait by the car,” Ivan spoke out, slight protest in his voice, and their minds collectively shattered at what the kind, loving tone of his voice implied. On top of everything that had happened today, this really was too much.

            The blond who’d spoken was over average height - probably only an inch taller than Francis himself, though - with shining sky eyes, an almost wheat-golden sheen to his hair, and cute, pouty red lips that made Francis’s mind ready to wander into the realm of the inappropriate...when he noticed what was in the blond’s hands.

            It was a gaudy little thing; painted in ridiculously bright colors in the design of the American Flag, with childish paint-writing on the handle in black. The contents of the mug were steaming - the scent of freshly brewed, gourmet coffee beans filled his nose temptingly - and large but slender hands cradled it gently.

            It was Arthur’s mug.

            He stared for a second in pure and utter disbelief. They’d searched for hours, gone through utter hell in the process, and now they were finding out that the mug hadn’t even been in the building?

            And how had Ivan’s... _boyfriend_ *shudder* gotten a hold of it?

            And then, of course, “ ** _ALFRED_**?!” Arthur shouted, disbelief ringing through his tone, and they all collectively looked back to the Brit, who was staring at the young blond in disbelief.

            The blond who stared at Arthur, huffed, and said, “Hey bro, didn’t know you worked here.”

            Life. Strangle. NOW.


End file.
